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The guilt dug its way deep inside his body. It was heavy and fluid, sinking into his stomach, eating through any other organs in its way making Lev feel sick. He slumped down around the corner of a doorway, sitting tucked against the wall, his head low, knees up to his chest.

The lights in the house were off and to any by passers it would appear as though no one was home.

Lev took a deep breath but it caught in his throat and he coughed, bringing his hands to his mouth to silence himself, the smell of the dried blood on them only made him feel further sick. His head reappeared around the corner of the doorway, making sure no one was there. He had left his scissors in the kitchen, having instinctively dropped them after attacking the man, and desperately wanted them back.

He slowly pushed himself back up to his feet, his body giving way beneath him. He grabbed the door handle to steady himself and scrambled over to the small craft table in the corner of his room. There were a few stray pieces of paper, some crayons, a glue stick and a pencil case scattered over the table. He grabbed the pencil case with trembling hands and tried to unzip it as silently as possible without moving too slow. He dug through and found a pencil sharpener, picking up a pencil from the table and sharpening both edges. Sure, it wasn’t a pair of scissors but it wasn’t nothing.

It looked more threatening in his small hands than it would to you.

(Uh, this is something a wrote in the middle of the night so it may not make sense because my brain was half asleep and I can’t be bothered to proof read it, also it won’t make too much sense without context anyway. Also first impressions of my oc Lev ^^)

Listening to Ice Nine Kills, Lindy bops her head to the loud music. Being on a secluded back road, she doesn’t feel bad for blasting her heavy metal with her windows down. When a stop sign appears in the distance, she eases off her gas. Once at a full stop, she rocks out, her long hair flying around with all her movements.

A thunderous knocking breaks her from her music bubble. She glances to her passenger side and would have jumped out her seat if not for her seatbelt. An extremely battered looking woman pounds on her window.

“Please let me in! He’s coming after me!” The woman pleads, eyes wide with terror. Lindy clicks the button in her car to unlock it and the door swiftly opens. She almost catapults herself into the seat. “Go!”

As her foot eases on the gas, another figure appears, this time behind her car. This one is much more menacing. A tall person with a white mask with no face holes in it stalking closer to her vehicle.

She usually never speeds. She never needs to. Enjoying the ride meant taking the long ways to prolong her time. Her foot feels like it is made of cement as it presses the pedal into the floor.

His fist manages to clank against her trunk but other than that, they get away safely.

The woman next to her breathes out a sigh of relief like she hasn’t breathed a single breath in days. “What happened to you?”

“That maniac killed all of my friends. I’m the only survivor,” she says, whimpering at the realization.

Lindy gasps. Was this like a real life horror movie? Who could do something like that?

“I’m driving us to the police station. Once we get off this back road, you can use my phone and call your family,” Lindy offers, trying to keep her voice even. “Thank you. I’m Raya.”

“Lindy.”

A silence overtakes them. What can you say to someone who just went through something like that?

“I can’t believe I’m the final girl,” Raya whispers, not really to Lindy but more to herself. “I’m not final girl material.”

“What?” Now Lindy is confused. She knows what a final girl is but why is Raya talking about it. “That guy…he told us he was going to make a movie and his film would center around whoever the final girl was. He just didn’t know which of us embodied that title. To find the perfect final girl, he had to kill the rest.” Tears stream freely down her cheeks.

Lindy bites her lip to refrain from letting out any surprised noise. Raya endured much more than she originally thought. She presses down on the gas a bit harder. This woman needs help.

Seeing her wiping her tears, dirt smearing on her cheeks, Lindy opens the center console and digs into it with one hand. “Here are some tissues. And some pretzels if you’re hungry,” she says, hoping that this road ends soon.

“Thank you,” Raya responds, carefully using the tissues to soak up her tears. “In my escape, another car just continued past me like I wasn’t shouting for help. You didn’t have to stop, but you did.”

Lindy doesn’t know what to say to that. Of course she stopped. She couldn’t imagine leaving Raya on the side of the street with that killer around.

A truck horn interrupts the silence. Behind her car is a large pickup truck, and she curses when the vehicle speeds closer. The driver has the mask on that will haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life, no matter how long that may be.

“Go faster!” Raya shouts, the franticness returning.

“I’m going to crash if I go faster!” Lindy yells back. Even with her statement, the car’s speed increases since the truck is closing the gap.

Lindy just walked—no, drove into what she thought was the end of a horror movie and now she and Raya need to survive this no face killer.

Her car jolts forward from the impact of the truck crashing into it. Lindy’s hands on the steering wheel wildly try to redirect her car as it spins sideways. When they’re off the beaten road and the masked villain approaches them, Lindy is reminded that this isn’t a movie. The terror doesn’t end when the credits roll.

Deep within the heart of a dense, foreboding forest, a chilling tale of survival unfolded. Rosey, a young and spirited woman, found herself trapped in a nightmarish scenario. Kidnapped by a maniac, she was held captive in a secluded cabin, her every attempt to escape thwarted by the sadistic mind games of her captor.

The cabin was a grim reflection of the torment that awaited Rosey. Its walls were adorned with eerie symbols and faded photographs, casting an unsettling atmosphere. The air was heavy with an oppressive silence, broken only by the distant howls of the wind and the occasional creak of the decaying floorboards.

Rosey’s heart raced as she scanned her surroundings, her eyes darting from one shadowy corner to the next. She had tried to escape multiple times, only to be met with a series of elaborate traps that seemed to mock her hopes of freedom. Each time she thought she had found a way out, her captor’s twisted mind revealed itself, leaving her feeling helpless and trapped.

The maniac reveled in playing with Rosey’s mind, setting traps that played tricks on her senses. One moment, she would see a glimmer of hope, a path to escape, only to have it vanish before her eyes. The floor would give way beneath her feet, revealing nothing but a pit of darkness. The door that seemed within reach would slam shut, sealing her fate once more.

Rosey’s determination to survive burned bright within her, despite the relentless mind games. She knew she had to stay vigilant, to outsmart her captor and find a way to break free from this twisted game. Every step she took, every decision she made, had to be calculated and precise.

As the days turned into weeks, Rosey’s spirit remained unbroken. She became attuned to the subtle clues left behind by her captor, learning to decipher the difference between illusion and reality. She honed her instincts, trusting her gut even when it seemed that all hope was lost.

The tension in the cabin grew with each passing day, the stakes higher than ever. Rosey’s captor reveled in the psychological torment, but little did he know that he was underestimating the strength and resilience of the woman he had captured.

Finally, the day of reckoning arrived. Rosey, fueled by her determination and unwavering spirit, discovered a flaw in her captor’s game. She found a weakness, a vulnerability that he had overlooked. With a heart pounding with both fear and hope, she seized the opportunity, using her newfound knowledge to outmaneuver her captor and escape his clutches.

As Rosey emerged from the darkness of the cabin and into the light of freedom, she took a moment to breathe in the crisp air of the forest. The weight of her ordeal lifted from her shoulders, replaced by a profound sense of triumph.

Rosey had survived the twisted mind games of her captor, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before. She had proven that even in the face of unimaginable terror, the human spirit could endure, bringing light to the darkest of places.

Realization flooded me with more pain than I thought possible. The texts….

  The jar of medicine hadn’t been for her dog at all. She’d been talking about herself. She was going to overdose and I’d been too blind to notice. 

  Now it all hit me at once as I tore down the hallway of the abandoned school; clawing my way through debris until my arms and face were lined with tiny streaks of crimson. 

   All those times she excused herself from hanging out with friends. The days she wouldn’t answer my calls or would just to say hello and hear my voice before she’d whisper that she had to go. How she’d stopped calling me by the nickname only she had ever used. The day she “accidentally” cut her wrist and had to leave school….

  I clenched my fists and my face contorted in agony as I hated myself for not noticing. 

  I was just in time to see her raise the bottle of pills. She stared at them with an emptiness that filled me with dread, and I clutched at the door frame with shaking hands.

    I was separated from the platform she was on by a big hole in the floor, and there was no way I could reach her. 

    "Put it down!!!" I screamed, hot tears clouding my vision and spilling down my cheeks.

    By this time even my legs were shaking violently, and I desperately fought to stay upright. Megan's head snapped in my direction, alarm etched across her features which had become so thin and drawn these past few weeks.

     Her hand closed tightly over the bottle and she backed away from me, frightened eyes darting around as if searching for something. Her mouth moved but no words came out; like a fish with no oxygen. Her free hand lifted protectingly in front of her face.

     "For the love of God, stop," I cried, my voice cracking as it fell to a hoarse whisper.

    Neither of us moved. She stood there holding the bottle that would end her life while I balanced helplessly on the broken tiles, unable to reach her. She looked confused, and a tense silence settled over the atmosphere.

  The thought occurred to me that perhaps she'd already taken the pills...maybe I was too late...maybe-

   “…..Nino?”

  It was a mere modicum of a whisper, but I heard it. I almost laughed with the relief that flooded me at hearing that name. She knew me. 

    A shuddering sigh passed over her lips and she began to tremble, eyes never leaving my face. They were searching every inch of it, as if trying to somehow scrape away the blood and dirt to see if it was really me.

  "Meg…" I whispered hesitantly, glancing down at the bottle she couldn't seem to let go of. "Please…..”

 She dragged her eyes away from my face as if afraid that I would somehow fade and be lost if she didn't keep her gaze on me.

    I could see the inward struggle taking place in the way that her left eyebrow twitched, in the trembling of her chin, in the rim of tears that formed; threatening to spill over. Her hands shook so hard that the pills rattled against the jar.

   I clenched my fingers into fists and leaned forward, chewing my lip with anxiety. Come on, Megan. You can do this.

    Then suddenly she raised the bottle in front of her face, staring at it. I simultaneously stepped forward in fear, scared to death that she would do it anyway. I sucked in a shaky breath and waited.

    A gut wrenching sob escaped her lips and she cried out, flinging the bottle against the far wall. A reassuring shatter ensued and I immediately returned my attention to the shuddering figure before me.

    Megan wrapped her arms around her thin waist and bent forward almost double, sobs racking her frame. I ached to be near her, but there was no way across the hole in the floor. I desperately searched about for something that would help, and stopped when my eyes lighted on a long plank.

    I crossed the room in two big strides and grabbed it, ignoring the rough splinters that scraped my hands as I dragged it across the floor. I shoved it over the hole and made my way across, thinking of nothing but the sound of Megan's tears as each one pricked my heart like a needle.

    Finally I stood before her, fresh tears glistening in my own eyes when I saw how thin and sickly she looked up close. How broken she’d become. 

    I was afraid to reach out, afraid that she would react as she had before. Afraid of hurting her again.

    But this time it was she who took a step in my direction. Slowly she stumbled towards me until I lost all apprehension and rushed forward, wrapping her in a tight embrace. For a long while she did nothing but cry, sobbing until she couldn't breathe and ragged gasps filled the room.

    I held her closer and lowered us to the floor so she could rest her legs, and finally her arms crept around my waist; trembling hands curling into fists and resting upright on my back.

    I don't know how long we sat there before her crying finally ceased and she lapsed into silence. I waited, leaving whatever happened next up to her for the time being.

  I opened my eyes when I felt her grab onto the front of my shirt. She was shaking again, holding onto me for dear life in that desperate need to have someone close, someone who wouldn't leave.

  “Nino?” She whispered softly, eyes still closed. 

  “I’m here.”

LED headlights steal moonlight away from imposing pine trees as a tired man makes his way home from a long day at the warehouse. "If I work one more of these 14 hour shifts, it'll be the end of me." He involuntarily spit out the thought, as he turned one more bend on the way home.

His eyelids felt like lead sheets. He could feel every hour radiating through his tired feet.

Just five more minutes... He closes his eyes for a moment... And thinks of his bed...

His brief slumber is broken by the booming clash of steel against concrete. He can feel the blood rushing to his skull as he wakes in a daze, dangling upside down. The smell of gasoline fills the air as he tries and get a grasp on his new reality.

He reaches to unclasp the seat belt from it's buckle. He lets out a futile scream as his bloody hands grip and pull in desperation. His phone buzzes loudly from the roof of the car, as the gasoline ignites in tandem.

In a moment of clarity, he remembers his box cutter. Fumbling in his pocket, he breathes one single sigh of relief as he feels it slide into his hands. He begins to saw at his seat belt wildly; the heat builds to uncomfortable levels as the fire grows closer. He falls as the last strands snap. His heavy body hits the roof of the enflamed car. He pushes with his last ounce of strength against the mangled car door. It bursts open and he scrapes his body across the hot concrete in his final bid for freedom. He wobbles into the far grass to get some distance from his blazing vehicle. The sound of sirens screaming in the distance gives him an odd sense of relief as he stares in shock at the fire consuming the moonlit trees.

“There’s nothing to do,” Stevie said for the eleventh time. The rain fell in sheets shaking his grandmother’s windows, mocking him. He had been here forever well not forever but since Friday night. Mom and Dad had promised pinky promised to pick him up Saturday afternoon but then the rain. Highways flooded, rivers swollen, half the homes in Myersville were without power but the worst of was another night with Grandma Marie Jeanne. Stevie’s eyes narrowed. At first glance Grandma Marie Jeanne looked sweet. With rosy cheeks and hair in a satiny white bun, his grandmother seemed harmless. But they rarely visited though they only lived the next town over. Dad always found excuses to leave early or to not come at all and Mom always had that worried pinched look before their visits. Stevie was supposed to be at Wolf Mountain with Troy but Troy’s family came down with Covid and Grandma Marie Jeanne offered to take in Stevie last minute. “Child stop worrying that curtain. Worry never solved one problem. Drink your chocolat.” His grandmother’s voice had no give. She gave simple demands and expected simple obedience. “But there’s nothing to do.” Grandma Marie Jeanne raised a pale eyebrow and Steve left the window. The chocolat turned out to be thick cocoa in a tiny cup. Steve drank the bittersweet concoction with one pinky extended.
“No worries my little Stephan. Mommy and your father are safe at home and we are safe here. As my grandmother would say the salt is unbroken. Your parents have one more night alone to work on their marriage. I will tell you stories from la patrie. And maybe if everything works out you will have a little brother or sister in nine months.” Mid swallow, Stevie froze. Gears in his brain tried to turn, tried to comprehend his grandmother’s words. Stevie thought about his home in the dim light his grandmother’s sitting room. His heart beat faster. Grandma Marie Jeanne took the Royal Daulton teacup from the silly boy’s shaky fingers. “Our people were from Normandy and my grandfather Jean was a fine farmer known for killing 1000 wolves. His skill was known across the province. You see a monster with the head of a wolf and the body of a man was roaming the countryside attacking women and children. The attacks raged for years. All hope was lose. For a purse of gold coins, Jean with my father as a young boy set after the creature. Tell me Stephan have heard of the Beast of Gavaudan?” The boy blinked slowly. “Good first I will tell you of the silver bullet.” Grandma Marie Jeanne refilled her grandson’s teacup and handed him a digestive biscuit.

Samuel was trapped in the battle bus, they were about to force him to jump. He thought it was stupid that they were forced to kill each other over a stupid victory umbrella. But it was kill or be killed, and he didn't particularly want to die. His strategy was to wait out everyone else and stay within the eye of the storm, once everyone else was dead, he would go in and finish off the last guys while they are at their weakest. It wasn't a foolproof plan, but he knew he didn't stand a chance fighting one-on-one. Distracted by making a battle strategy, he was too busy to notice the battle bus guards walking up behind him. Before he knew it, he was 4000 feet in the air, wind rushing through his hair. He got his bearings and angled himself towards tomato town to get some weapons. Deploying his glider, he landed gracefully right outside of the bunker. He opened the door and saw a ceiling zapper and immediately picked it up and placed it on the ceiling to prevent others from following. Rushing down the stairs, he picked up an assault rifle, a pistol, and some bandages he might need for later. having gathered sufficient materials, he set out for a place to hide. He found a bush, and crouched in it to allow it to cover his entire profile.

"This is going to be a long wait." he mumbled to himself. Gunshots to his right interrupted his conversation with himself. He crouched lower and turned to watch the fight. The victor was soon decided, but Samuel noticed he took heavy losses. with a well placed pistol shot, Samuel finished the unfortunate winner, and went to pick up his spoils. He found some more ammo for each of his guns, plus a tactical shotgun. He quickly placed everything in his pack and moved onto the next hiding spot.

Sitting in a bush while you wait for 100 people to kill each other was a long wait, it turns out. But it was worth it if it guaranteed safety. It was down to 5 people now, and Samuel didn't even have to move from his bush. He heard some more gunshots, and the player count dropped down to 4.

"I might actually pull this off" He said to himself. He immediately looked around himself for some wood. A bullet grazing his cheek pulled him out of his frantic search. He looked to the origin of the bullet, reaching for his rifle. His attacker was quickly finished off by a third party and the player count dropped to 3. More shots, coming from behind him this time, hit the third party, knocking his health to critical. Samuel turned on the fourth party, pulling out his shotgun. With a few shots from it and a little help from party three, the player count dropped to 2. Down to the deciding few moments of the fight, Samuel turned to his last opponent, pulled out his pistol, and got one pumped in the face.

"Dang it!" I yelled throwing down my controller "This game is garbage!" Despite my words, I proceeded to pick up my controller, and queue up the next game.

Samuel had died and was sent to what could only be described as hell, he was forced to watch the one who had killed him do a dance in the same spot where he had done said killing. At least now he didn't have to fear for his life, or take someone else's. The words "waiting for matchmaking to commence" appeared in front of him, and his world began to fall apart around him.

I awake suddenly from cryosleep. I'm still groggy, but the blaring alarms and flashing amber lights help expedite my awakening. Green lights on the ship floor indicate the emergency path I need to take to the nearest escape pod. I hear distant explosions, and what sounds like parts of the ship breaking apart. I pick up the pace and get to the escape pod. The fire suppression system in this sector is trying to stop a huge fire three decks above me. I can feel the heat in the ship climb higher and higher. I get in the pod and seal the hatch. I check to see all the emergency equipment is still there; water and food rations, environmental suit, communications equipment, standard tool set, a pulse rifle and kinetic handgun, and ammunition for both. I strap in and initiate launch.

I am hurdled down to the planet below. The window across from me allows me to see the ship, the S.A.N Alighieri, tearing apart. "What the hell happened?" I say out loud. As the pod continues to fling through space, I remember our objective: to establish a base of operations on the planet of Ifreann.

"Hell on Earth is just a Tuesday on Ifreann", as the saying goes. Ifreann got quite the notoriety when the team of Irish explorers initially discovered it. A team of 24 trained pathfinders landed on the planet. Only 6 left it. Only 2 made it back to Earth. Those two survivors told of the horrors on the planet; poisonous flora, drastic weather patterns, and extremely dangerous fauna, all make Ifreann their home. And I'm hurdling straight towards it: alone.

I was contracted as an engineer for this mission. The Systems Alliance felt that Ifreann is worth the risk since initial scans from the atmosphere show large deposits of rare metals and fuel. The Alighieri was built for this mission explicitly, and now it is debris floating in space. It seems not even the ship is safe from this planet's reputation.

After a couple hours, I look out the window and finally see my unfortunate destination: Ifreann. From space, it looks absolutely beautiful. It has one large supercontinent, similar to old Pangea of Earth, which comprises about 45% of the surface. The other 55% is beautiful azure ocean. Ifreann has a higher temperature due to a thicker atmosphere, and significantly higher rainfall than Earth or other exoplanets we have recorded and colonized. This has lead to huge tropical rainforests that would put the Amazon to shame being the primary biome of Ifreann. Everywhere except near the poles are covered in lush hues of green that make the planet look like a jade marble from certain angles.

As the pod gets closer and enters the atmosphere, I buckle back in as turbulence starts. After a few minutes I hear the outside thrusters engage and then the parachute. The pod lands with a hefty thud that nearly causes me to black out. I gather my senses and look outside. The pod's internal navigation computer found an open clearing to land in. About 150 meters out I can see the dense foliage of the jungle. The computer calculates where to land based on my chances of survival. I don't want to know what it thinks my chances are.

I put on the environmental suit. It will help me retain and reprocess water I lose from sweat, which I will likely be doing a lot of in the sweltering heat of Ifreann's jungles. The suit also protects me physically from creature attacks, but from the reports I've read, they don't protect you for very long. I gather the rest of the equipment and sling the pulse rifle on my back. I open the hatch of the escape pod and immediately feel the humidity and heat of this place. Even in this clearing it is nearly unbearable, once you get into the jungle proper, I can't even imagine.

I find a good spot in this clearing, pretty central and higher up so I can see any creature that may be stalking me and trying to attack. I set up the communication equipment and power it with a battery. I input my credentials and start an emergency S.O.S signal and give my location. Hopefully some others made it out of the ship too and can maybe make their way to me, or a passing ship detects it and attempts to rescue me. As a little bit of hope fills me, the dread of my situation enters me again. I am on the most hostile planet recorded in human history, alone, with limited supplies, and just basic survival training. I sit down on the soft ground and contemplate it all, "I'm going to die here".

Rain pelted the crew and Fay relentlessly as the night drew on. Waves crashed up onto the deck, washing two men overboard, and taking much of the food and fresh water.

The men thrashed as the relentless waves crashed over their heads, pushing them under. Thunder rumbled, seaming to be laughing at their struggle. Fay would never forget the way they screamed as they were pushed under one’s more, not coming back up for air. Blue Lightning split the sky, lighting up her terrified face.

The captain let out a yell of warning before another wave crashed on deck, almost taking Fay down with it.

“If this storm doesn’t end soon we might as well commit suicide! We won’t have nearly enough food or water!” One of the crew members shouted over the mayhem.

Lightning struck ones again, illuminating the deadly waves. Thunder followed soon after, shaking Fay’s entire body.

“Ma’am, it is best you stay in the cabins until this passes!” One of them suggested.

Fay’s wet hair slapped her in the face as she spoke, “and drown down there while it’s flooded? No thank you!”

He hesitated, contemplating if he should try harder, but in the end he ended up rushing to tie up the sails.

After three hours of lightning, thunder, screaming, and struggling to stay on board, things calmed a bit. The waves, still rocky, rarely made their way on deck. The wind’s whistling had died down and was now carrying the sound of soon coming peace.

After another hour everything was normal. A few children were shaken, but alright. Fay herself was still shivering with cold and fear that hadn’t passed yet.

The sun crept out from behind the dark clouds. Seagulls dove for fish in the now calm waters.

“It’s a good thing you decided to stay up here. I just had to send a few men down to pale water! We should be arriving at a trade station where we can repair,” the captain said, strolling over to her like nothing had happened.

“And where are we to stay?” Fay asked, gesturing to herself and the other passengers.

“In a hotel not far from the dock. All payed for by my own pocket money for the trouble. The moment we’re all set and ready to go, I’ll walk there myself to fetch you all,”

Fay smiled, satisfied with how she was being treated as a human rather than an object on this trip.